


Every Path with You

by sparksfly7



Category: Gugudan (Band)
Genre: Character Study, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-27
Updated: 2018-03-27
Packaged: 2019-04-07 20:01:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14088576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sparksfly7/pseuds/sparksfly7
Summary: The first time Mimi sees Bora, she mistakes her for an elementary school student.





	Every Path with You

**Author's Note:**

> I had an idea for this fic for a while, since Mimi talked about [her first impression of Hana](https://youtu.be/NoxsEzwf2B0?t=21m22s). Full disclosure: I don't actually know much about Gugudan, so please let me know if I got anything terribly wrong.
> 
> The title is inspired by the line "Don’t choose which path you will go. Whistle, every path is for you" from [The Boots](https://colorcodedlyrics.com/2018/02/gugudan-gugudan-boots).

The first time Mimi sees Bora, she mistakes her for an elementary school student. Okay well, maybe middle school. She’s so small and pale and delicate that she looks like a doll, or like one of the managers brought their daughter in for take your kid to work day.

She looks so small sitting on the couch, and when she sees Mimi she unfolds herself and approaches her. She’s just as small standing up, and even paler up close, and pretty. Really pretty.

“Hi.” Her voice is deeper than Mimi expected, not as dainty as her features. “I’m Shin Bora.”

“Jung Mimi,” she returns politely, inclining her head.

“I know,” Bora says. “They were talking about you coming here.”

“They were?”

“Yeah, they said I’d have a chingu coming here.”

“A chingu,” Mimi repeats. “Wait, how old are you?”

“I was born in 1993.”

Mimi’s jaw almost drops, but she manages to collect herself in time. It wouldn’t do for her to mess up her first impression. “Me too.”

“I know.” Bora smiles. “I’ve been waiting for you to come here.”

Oh, Mimi thinks, and something swoops in her stomach.

 

She still can’t believe Bora is the same age as her, but then dance practice starts and it’s obvious that Bora is a leader amongst the trainees. She gives directions – “move to the right here” – offers corrections – “no, you were too slow” – and the others listen and follow her like it’s a long-established routine.

From what Mimi hears, everyone calls her “Bora unnie” and Mimi can tell that she’s the oldest. Well, the second oldest after Mimi, but even though her birthday could put her among the previous year, Mimi’s always counted herself as a 93 liner.

Another thing Mimi can tell is that Bora is good. Despite her delicate features and build, she’s a powerful dancer, and even just in the practice room she radiates stage presence. Coupled with her face, Mimi can’t imagine her not debuting.

Bora comes up to her later. “What do you think?”

“You were great,” Mimi blurts out.

Bora laughs. “Thank you, but I meant everybody as a whole.”

“Oh! Oh well, that’s what I meant. You – you all – were great.”

Bora stares at her for a moment, and Mimi can tell she didn’t fall for it. But then she simply smiles. “Ready to join us?”

Mimi salutes. “Aye aye, captain.”

 

Bora catches Mimi up on a routine that the trainees have been working on for an upcoming showcase.

“N sunbaenim and Ravi sunbaenim helped us with the choreography,” Bora says, passing Mimi a bottle of water.

“That’s cool.” Mimi sweeps her sweaty hair away from her eyes. “Did you learn a lot from them?”

“Yeah, they’re really good dancers and they were really patient with us, even though they’re so busy.”

“They’re idols, after all,” Mimi says. She wants to add, _like we will be one day. Hopefully_ , but instead she just takes a sip of water.

“Maybe one day we’ll be in their shoes and get to help future trainees practice.”

Mimi chuckles. “Hopefully we’ll be in a position to do that.”

“Why not?” Bora smiles, and Mimi envies her easy confidence. They’re the same age, but Mimi is already on her second agency and perhaps her last chance. “Do you want to give the routine another go?”

Mimi’s muscles are aching and she’s out of breath; she wants to finish her bottle of water and maybe sit down for a good thirty minutes. “Sure.”

Bora stands up, looking refreshed and energetic, like she could dance for many more hours.

“Hey,” Mimi starts. “Thanks for staying behind to help me. You didn’t have to do that.”

Bora blinks. “Of course,” she says. “We’re in the same team, why wouldn’t I help you?”

“Well… Anyway, thanks.”

“You’re welcome. Now, get up.”

Mimi can see some of Bora’s drill sergeant side start to emerge, and she wisely drags herself up. She hasn’t been here long, but she’s been here long enough to know it’s not a good idea to keep Bora waiting when she has that tone of voice.

 

For no reason that Mimi can think of, Bora starts tagging after her like a puppy. Or a kitten maybe, as elegant and dainty as she is. Even though she’s proven to be a strong leader, Mimi has an urge to pat her head.

“Are you really the same age as me?” Mimi has to ask.

Bora gives her an offended look. “Of course I am. Why would I lie about my age?”

_I don’t know, because you look like you’re twelve?_

“Twelve?” Bora repeats, sounding affronted, and Mimi realizes she spoke aloud.

“It’s a good thing,” Mimi says quickly. “When you’re fifty you’ll probably look like you’re thirty.”

Bora tilts her head to the side. “And how old do you think you’ll look?”

“If you’re thirty, then I’ll be twenty-nine.”

And as Bora throws her head back and laughs, Mimi realizes that she quite likes Bora following her around. Hopes that she keeps doing it.

 

Somehow, they go from senior trainee and new trainee, to dance instructor and dance student, to stalker and stalked (okay, Mimi is exaggerating on this point), to friends.

Bora is easy to talk to, and Mimi can tell that she’s been waiting for a friend her age to chat with. It’s not that the other trainees are unwelcoming or exclusive, but age is more than just a number, and paired with Bora’s status as a senior trainee and her almost intimidating beauty, it can make her seem somewhat unapproachable.

Well, not to Mimi.

 

“You were in an FT Island music video, right?”

“Yeah,” Mimi says, suddenly feeling self-conscious. “Barely though, I didn’t have much screentime.”

Bora smiles. “It’s a nice song.”

“Yeah, they make good music. It’s a shame—” Mimi cuts herself off. She isn’t going to complain about her old company in front of someone from her new one. She expects Bora to ask, _“It’s a shame what?”_ but Bora merely looks at her.

“Do you want to be an actress one day?” Bora suddenly asks.

“Maybe.” Mimi clears her throat. “Hopefully one day.”

“I’d like you to see you star in a drama.” Bora pushes her fist against Mimi’s shoulder, not quite a punch. “Make that one day happen, okay?”

“Okay,” Mimi says, and wonders if Bora would be by her side that day, should it come. She rather wants her to be.

 

“And you were in VIXX’s music video. Eternity.”

“I was,” Bora says with a nod. Mimi had rewatched it just the other day. When she had first seen it, her eyes were caught by the body rolls but this time they were focused on Bora.

“What was it like?”

“It was—good. I mean, you’ve been in a music video before, and you’ve met VIXX sunbaenim. I’m sure you can put together a picture of what it was like.”

“Yeah, I passed them on the way to the bathroom and then I saw them practicing for like, two minutes. I didn’t get to see Hongbin sunbaenim’s face up close.”

“He is very handsome,” Bora acknowledges. “Hey, if you like him so much, I’ll recommend that you should be in their next music video.”

“Don’t you dare.”

“I think they wanted to choose Nayoung. I’ll tell her that you’re dying of jealousy hearing that she gets to—”

Mimi tackles Bora and they go down together in a tangle of limbs.

 

Jellyfish announces that they’re sending three of their trainees to a girl group survival show: Kim Sejeong, Kim Nayoung and Kang Mina.

“Do you wish they chose you to go on?” Mimi asks.

Bora looks unbothered, at ease. “They told me from the beginning which trainees they were going to send.”

“That’s not an answer,” Mimi points out.

“Maybe, a little, but it’s not like we’re going to be sitting around doing nothing. We have plenty of work to do.” Bora does the shoulder pushing thing that’s become her trademark. “Don’t get lazy on me here, Jung.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, Shin.”

Bora holds out her fist, and Mimi meets it in a bump.

 

“Do you wish you could be on Produce 101?” Bora asks later, almost absently.

Mimi is silent for a moment. She wants to say that she knew she wouldn’t be chosen, but she knows Bora would call her out for deflecting just like she did earlier.

“Kind of,” she admits. “It’s—an opportunity, you know. Even if I wouldn’t make it far, at least it would be a chance to prove myself.”

Bora nods. “I know. But we’ll still have chances here. We’ll just have to make sure that we make the best of them.”

“Right. Has Nayoung talked to you about it?” She knows how close they are.

“A bit. She’s really excited, but nervous too. I told her I know she’ll do great. That they all will.” Bora smiles, fondly, and Mimi thinks that she’s going to be a great leader one day. She already is, without the official title. “I’m glad Sejeong is with them. Nayoung is older, but Sejeong has a level head on her shoulders. She’ll take good care of them.”

“You sound like a mom,” Mimi teases. “Sending your kids off to school for the first time.”

“You said I looked like a twelve-year-old the other day.”

“Face of a twelve-year-old, heart of a forty-year-old.”

“What about you?” Bora asks. “Mind of a ten-year-old?”

“Hey! And here I was going to offer to be the dad to your mom. Now I’m reconsidering.”

“I think Sejeong is more of a dad than you are. Have you seen the way she eats?”

“Sejeong can be that uncle that always shows up to Chuseok dinner drunk,” Mimi says, and Bora laughs so hard she doubles over.

“I see you’re thinking this all out.”

“You have to plan when it comes to making a family,” Mimi says gravely.

Bora nods, biting her lip as she tries to maintain a serious expression. “Right, okay. Whatever you said, yeobo.”

“Jagiya,” Mimi croons, pretending to stroke Bora’s hair, and they both collapse in laughter.

 

Usually when Mimi talks to the other trainees about the prospect of debut, they’re excited, anticipatory, giddy. Sure they’re nervous, doubtful, scared too, but Mimi holds herself back from expressing those feelings. She’s older and she feels a certain responsibility, even though a lot of these girls have trained longer than her. She’s also cultivated somewhat of a playful, carefree image – it’s not fake, per se, but it’s not all of her either. However, some days she feels like it’s become that and she’s not allowed to stray outside it.

However, it’s different with Bora. When she’s with Bora, Mimi doesn’t feel like she has to be upbeat or cheerful or energetic; she doesn’t feel like she has to be anything at all. Bora accepts her as she is, for all she is.

Somehow, the words she’s been holding back slip past her lips.

“This is my second chance,” Mimi says. “I don’t want to fail again.”

Bora looks at her with solemn eyes. “You won’t. You can do it.”

Mimi lets out a chuckle. “You’re just saying that because you’re my friend.”

“No, I’m saying that because I know you.” Bora knocks her shoulder against Mimi’s. “Come on, Jung, where’s that fighting spirit I’ve always seen in you?”

“Maybe it’s hibernating.”

“Well, tell it that winter is over so it’d better wake up.”

That startles a laugh out of Mimi, soft but sincere.

“Thanks,” she says quietly.

“For what?” Bora asks, like she did nothing more than answer a question about the weather.

“For—you know, believing in me.”

“Mimi,” Bora says, eyes on hers. “How could I not?”

And for some reason, Mimi finds it hard to hold her gaze.

 

Bora tells Mimi the new stage name she’s been given: Hana.

“What do you think?” Bora asks, a small dent between her eyebrows like she’s trying the name on, turning left and right in front of a mirror to see how it fits.

“I mean, a flower is a nice meaning. You’re as pretty as a flower.”

Bora snorts. “Thanks, I guess.”

“Plus, you’re the leader so you’re always going to say ‘hana, dul, set.’ Now you can feel all important that your name is in there.”

Bora laughs. “Maybe they’re going to give you Dul for a stage name.”

“Hey, don’t give them any ideas. I wouldn’t put it past them.”

“Well, if I’m one and you’re two, then we’ll always be beside each other.”

“We’ll always be beside each other anyway,” Mimi tells her, pressing her fist against Bora’s shoulder, and Bora smiles.

 

It’s to nobody’s surprise that Bora is appointed the leader. She’s already been their leader for years anyway, in everything but name. And now the name has finally been handed to her. Mimi wonders if she feels any pressure about it.

“I don’t know what to call you now,” Mimi jokes. “Hana, Leader, you have so many names now.”

“Just Bora is fine,” she tells Mimi. “I mean, nothing has really changed.”

That’s true, Mimi thinks, but also, everything has changed. Their debut is so close that she can almost taste it. Surely, that’s a change, right? Finally, a giant step towards the finishing line that she’s been eyeing for years. One that isn’t really a finishing line but another starting one.

“Bora,” Mimi says, because stage name or not, impending debut or not, that’s who Bora will always be to her. “I guess since they let me keep my name, you don’t have any options.”

“Even if they gave you one, you’ll always be Mimi to me.”

She looks at Bora and hopes that no matter what has or will change from this point onwards, she’ll always have Bora beside her.

 

When they’re told their name, they all think it’s a joke, because who’d name their group after a multiplication table? How do you go from Voice, Visual, Value in Excelsis to that?

It only gets more unbelievable when they’re all assigned a number. Jellyfish had tried to attach some deeper meaning to each number, but as far as Mimi’s concerned, they might as well have just drawn slips from a hat, which is clearly how they got their name.

“I feel like I’m back in elementary school,” Mimi grumbles. “Memorizing multiplication tables. What’s next, learning the alphabet?”

“Maybe that’ll be our fanclub name,” Bora says lightly.

“How can you be okay with it? It’s so dumb.”

Bora shrugs. “It’s what they’ve chosen. They’re our company, they aren’t going to change their minds and we’ll just have to make the best of it.”

“But I don’t want to introduce myself as a multiplication table,” Mimi whines, and Bora sighs and pats her hand.

“I don’t either, but that’s better than _trainee girls_. They gave us a name, a concept, even individual traits. Do you realize how close we are to debuting?”

“Of course, it’s all I’ve been thinking about.”

“Then just focus your mental energy on that rather than our name.”

“What are you focusing yours on?” Mimi asks, because she can tell that Bora is weighed down by something.

“Just…our debut. Sejeong and Mina being back from IOI. How unhappy their fans are about that. We’re getting some attention, but it’s not the kind we’d want.”

Mimi feels guilty now, complaining about their name while Bora has had all this on her mind.

Bora bites her lip. “I’ve seen people say that Sejeong should be the leader.”

“I’m sure Sejeong would be a good leader in her own right, but you’re our leader. You’re the best leader we could hope for.”

Bora looks at her for a long moment. Releases her lip. Smiles. “Thanks, Mimi.”

Mimi shrugs. “I’m just telling the truth.”

“Well, I appreciate it,” Bora says, sounding like she means _I appreciate you._

“Any time,” Mimi says lightly, making a fist and pushing it against Bora’s shoulder. She means _I do too_ , and she hopes that Bora hears her.

She has a feeling she does.

 

It’s the week before their debut. Mimi had just given a pep talk to some of the other girls – granted, she’s not sure how much Xiening understood – and as much as she believes the words of encouragement and confidence she just gave, suddenly she finds herself overwhelmed by the very doubt she just tried to soothe.

Of course, she finds herself next to Bora, who’s watching a dance practice of their debut song with hawk eyes for no doubt the umpteenth time.

“Who’s that group?” Mimi asks, tucking her head over Bora’s shoulder. “They look pretty good.”

“A promising rookie group,” Bora says with a quirk of her lips. “They have some real potential. I hope they deliver.”

Mimi sinks back and sits down. “Do you think we can make it?”

“Of course we will,” Bora says, with her usual confidence. Mimi wonders how she always maintains it.

“How do you know?”

“Because.” Bora smiles at her and puts an arm around her shoulder. “We have our lucky number seven, so how could we not?”

Mimi leans against her. Bora is smaller than her, but Mimi’s always felt like she could lean on her. “And we have our lovely number one flower.”

Bora chuckles. “And we have our drunk Chuseok uncle.”

Mimi bursts into laughter. Bora has always had a way with words and, more than that, a way with Mimi.

“I don’t know what I’d do without you,” Mimi blurts out.

Bora gives her a long look. “Well,” she says. “Let’s not find out.”

 

This is it.

This is the moment they’ve been waiting, hoping, dreaming for. The moment they’ve shed sweat, swallowed tears, skipped meals, sacrificed sleep for. The moment Mimi almost thought that she wouldn’t get to have. The moment everything has built up to and everything can crash down from. This is it.

“Nervous?” Bora asks, almost conversationally.

Mimi exhales. “Beyond belief,” she admits, and if it were anyone else but Bora she doesn’t know if she could have said it.

“Me too,” Bora says.

“Really?” Mimi blurts out.

Bora raises an eyebrow. “Why is that so surprising?”

“Because you’re always so—” Mimi makes a hand gesture. “So…put together.”

Bora frowns. “I have to be. It doesn’t mean that I don’t feel nervous too.”

“You can be,” Mimi says. “I didn’t mean—you don’t _have_ to be like that. And you definitely don’t have to act like it if you aren’t.”

“We’re idols, Mimi,” Bora says with a wan smile. “Well, we will be by tomorrow. That means we have to be actresses too. You should know – you trained to be one.”

She doesn’t say it in a condescending way, and her words are nothing but true, but something in them makes Mimi bristle.

“That doesn’t mean that _we_ have to be fake. I don’t mean we as in Flower Hana and Lucky Mimi but we as in…you know, we.”

“No, I’m not sure if I know,” Bora says slowly. “What do you mean by ‘we’?”

She’s looking at Mimi with dark, searching eyes, and Mimi’s stomach swoops like it had when they met, except it’s also totally different because back then Bora was just a trainee with a pretty face and now Bora is her closest friend, her pillar of support, her trusted confidante and maybe…maybe she can be more than that.

“I mean—” And Mimi squeezes her eyes shut and hopes that her nickname will prove true as she leans in and presses her lips to Bora’s.

Bora is completely still for one second, two, and just as Mimi is starting to think she’s made a terrible mistake and her stomach swoops in a very different way, Bora moves. She kisses Mimi back, forcefully, almost harshly, hands coming up to frame her face and pull her closer. Just like Bora’s dancing, there’s nothing delicate about the way she kisses.

Mimi feels breathless when they part. It takes her a moment to open her eyes and she blinks once, twice, as she looks at Bora, who’s smiling.

“I was hoping,” Bora says, “that this is what you meant.”

“You were?” Mimi asks dumbly.

“Mimi,” Bora says seriously. “I don’t know what I’d do without you either. I don’t know if I could face any of this without you by my side.”

“You don’t have to discover that if,” Mimi tells her. “I told you, right? I’ll always be beside you. I’m the _dul_ to your _hana_ – Sojin can move over.”

Bora’s laugh lights up her face, and she leans forward to share it with Mimi.

 

When they make a circle with their outstretched hands, with Bora tucked away in the centre like a pearl in an oyster, Mimi carves the moment into her memory and vows to never let it dissolve.

One of the first things that Bora had said to her was _I’ve been waiting for you to come here_. It turns out that Mimi, unknowingly, has been waiting for her too. She’s been waiting for all of this, for these girls, for Gugudan, for this moment.

And it’s better than any fairy tale.


End file.
